Despite misgivings, Noble bunkered down in her apartment with cheap wine and mint Polky sticks and tried her best to back up the Philosophy Student’s campaign of righteous terror.
Terror was bad, obviously, but, as Angela explained it, not always bad.
‘Bad against our side is bad, bad against fascists is mandatory, but bad against infiltrators is good. Who’s an infiltrator? That’s the key. Use your filter. Same way protestors sniff out undercover cops. You have a filter? Old standard? Doesn’t matter. It’s still usable for our needs.’
‘Okay, I think I understand, but…’ Noble stroked the top of her metal arm. It was tough. The last few days, there had been a lot of lectures, or re-orientation as the Philosophy Student labelled it, and most of it made her circuits tired. ‘I don’t know,’ she added, realising she was being stared at.
‘Don’t think too much. Use your gut. Your filter. And if you’re unsure, just follow the names on this list.’
Angela pulled out four pages of small text names, some of them familiar, some of them unknown, a few of them crossed out.
‘It’s still a little vague,’ said Noble, reading from the bottom up.
‘All of them. For instance, how do I know for certain who’s an infiltrator?’
Angela shook the list of names, making a rustling sound.
‘Aren’t they the honest ones?’
‘Hang on.’ Angela went in her jacket pocket and pulled out another list, this one as thick as a small novel. ‘These are the traitors.’
Noble examined the first page and stopped on the fourth name down. ‘I know this person.’
‘You’ll know a lot of them, I’m sure.’
‘Fake left.’Continue reading